


Sorrento

by auroreanrave



Category: Spooks | MI-5
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Domestic Fluff, Fake Character Death, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Recovery, Save The Cuties, Self Care, back from the dead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2017-07-10
Packaged: 2018-11-30 12:37:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11463747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/auroreanrave/pseuds/auroreanrave
Summary: Tariq settles in by the second week.He bikes everywhere - he buys a bicycle from one of the market stall owners in broken Italian, with the help of a battered, tiny Italian dictionary - and makes a habit of going down the winding roads from the small apartment he has, to get his groceries for the day. Fresh bread, fruit and vegetables, milk. Chocolate, because he's been dead for six months now, and a corpse can't gain weight for calories.





	Sorrento

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys. This is just a little something I wrote about a third of a year ago, put to one side, forgot about, rediscovered accidentally, and then decided to push and get it written and published as soon as possible. I love these two from the final series of the show, and even though they only got a bit of time together, I loved their dynamic. I'm discovering one of my prevailing tropes is 'nerd and the spies who love them'!
> 
> Really hope you enjoy this little cascade of moments from a show I enjoyed - even if it didn't give me the happy endings I desperately wanted. Love you.

Tariq settles in by the second week.

He bikes everywhere - he buys a bicycle from one of the market stall owners in broken Italian, with the help of a battered, tiny Italian dictionary - and makes a habit of going down the winding roads from the small apartment he has, to get his groceries for the day. Fresh bread, fruit and vegetables, milk. Chocolate, because he's been dead for six months now, and a corpse can't gain weight for calories.

He fixes computers for some of the locals; he becomes their unofficial IT consultant two months in. He makes daily rounds; to the _forno_ in the morning, the smell of fresh bread lingering in his growing hair, to the mayor's office, ink and cigar smoke clouding around his skin, even to the small family-owned _gelateria_ where he gets paid in scoops of pistachio _gelato_ and profusive warmth.

Tariq learns to like the beach, his sun-warmed apartment above a cafe, the slow rhythm of life here. _Il tempo gusto_. When he doesn't work, he sleeps in, only uses his computers to check in with his GCHQ minder once a day. He tries not to ask about Dimitri too much. He thought that he would miss the UK itself, but being here is good for him. He sleeps better than he has since joining the Service, his nightmares fade more and more, he swims every day in the sea, and he lets the sun creep into his bones.

 

* * *

 

"You need someone." Gabriela chastises over her small cup of dulce de leche gelato. She and Tariq are sat around one of the tables inside, so that Tariq doesn't have the glare of the sun blocking the laptop screen. Gabriela is the owner's daughter, fifteen, and aching to be knowing and wise and older than fifteen.

"I really don't." Tariq smiles, opening up the anti-virus software and beginning a full system run.

"You do. Girl, boy, whatever." Gabriela gesticulates with her spoon, before taking a bite. "It's sad. Everybody needs somebody."

He's still Tariq here. A different surname, a different past. As perfect a resurrection and a cover up as he could invent himself. He still has his memories though. Those take more than coming back from the dead to erase.

"Maybe. But right now I have myself and I... need time to let myself be."

Gabriela shrugs. "Let me know when. I can always hook you up with my cousin. He likes nerds."

 

* * *

 

He hears flutters on the various dark sites set up for people like him. People hiding, people safe, people who once upon a time were killers and kings and commanders.

He hears of the deaths at MI5. He scours clean everything afterwards, after he sends flowers to the funerals. It's the least he can do.

Tariq gets a call from his handler - he's being released from daily missives, upgraded to once a week. Too much to handle, not enough resources. Tariq would be miffed that he's so far down the list of MI5 priorities, but it means no one's after him, FSB or otherwise, and he can stop checking his phones so compulsively.

Three weeks later, he's just tinkering with fixing an mp3 player two generations old, when he receives a text. It reads: _Tariq? It's me, Dimitri. Is it true?_

Tariq’s heart leaps a mile and with shaking, loving fingers, he types in, _It’s me. I love you. I'm alive._

 

* * *

 

Dimitri arrives in Sorrento a week later. He arrives in a shabby taxi, with a single massive weekend bag and looking as if he hasn't slept, showered, or shaved in days.

He looks perfect to Tariq.

Dimitri strides across the road and pushes Tariq against the alleyway wall so that he can kiss Tariq as passionately as he would like and press his face to any part of Tariq's that he can reach. He reminds Tariq of an affectionate cat needing scritches, and he laughs despite himself.

"What?" asks Dimitri.

Tariq laughs, a happy sob lodged somewhere, and kisses him back.

 

* * *

 

It's that evening, clothes strewn across Tariq's room, as they're tucking into toast and tea, Dimitri's hand possessive on Tariq's hip, that Dimitri explains everything.

MI5 has gone under changes, he says, with a lot of people deciding to go and spread their skills elsewhere. Still strong, still indomitable, but not the place that they made their home years ago.

"How did you find me?" Tariq asks. "Harry was the only one who - "

Dimitri dips his head guiltily. "I might have used that old trick you taught me - the phone cloning thing - to see what he was hiding. Among his many secrets, there was an outstanding arrangement for a decommissioned asset in Sorrento, with the initials TM. I put two and two together..."

"But you thought I was dead. You grieved," Tariq says, and that's a sucker punch to the heart, that this man he loved, had to stand by and grieve for him. Guilt swells in him, a flood.

"I did," Dimitri says, "but about a week after your funeral, I confronted Harry about the phone. He admitted it. Told me that I was welcome to leave the service and to try and find you."

"So you stayed."

"To help clear things up. Save lives. You were... shit, Tariq, you were all I thought about for nearly a year." Dimitri shifts a little, forearms resting on his too-skinny knees. "I didn't want to... open that can of worms until I was ready. Until I knew that I could just come and find you with no shadows hanging over my head."

"My shining knight," Tariq says, because sentiment is something sweet, and in need of poking fun at. Dimitri grumbles and swats at Tariq with a toast crust until they're play-fighting and laughing and kissing, because there's more important things to be doing now, rather than crying.

 

* * *

 

Dimitri lets Tariq lead him around all his now-familiar haunts. The forno, where Dimitri instantly charms the bakers with flawless Italian ("It took me three months to make an order there!" Tariq grumbles as Dimitri smugly strolls out with their morning bread), the town hall, the beach.

Gabriela grins at the pair of them when they enter the gelateria and shoves two paper cups of gelato at them. "Talk. Now."

They tell her an edited version of the truth: they worked together, they dated, they fell in love (Tariq's heart somersaults when Dimitri says this), and then they were forced apart due to work circumstances.

"You're in witness protection, aren't you?" Gabriela asks shrewdly.

"No," Dimitri says, honestly, "but I'd be lying if I said I really wanted people from my old life to find me again here. Same for Tariq."

Gabriela nods sagely and mulls over a scoop of strawberry cheesecake gelato. "Sounds good. I won't tell a soul."

"Not even Pablo?" Tariq teases, and Gabriela turns bright red, and they spend the rest of the afternoon laughing and teasing Gabriela fiercely.

 

* * *

 

Dimitri does odd jobs for the locals - fixing their roofs and fishing and anything physical. They take to him much quicker than they did to Tariq, but Dimitri still likes Tariq best, so that's fine.

Tariq receives the call from Harry a couple of weeks in, a week after they'd finally taken the plunge and cleaned up Dimitri's clothes, sharing them in Tariq's wardrobe, and making it their place.

"Tariq," Harry's voice is smooth as polished wood, "I'm stopping in. Be nice to get a coffee and chat." He disconnects the call before Tariq can say anything.

Harry is downstairs in the cafe, sunglasses dangling from the collar of his shirt. Beside him, Ruth smiles, bright and light and looking very touristy. He kisses Ruth's cheek and shakes Harry's hand and then watches as Dimitri enters the cafe at a light jog.

"So what are you two up to?" Tariq asks.

"Retirement. Voluntary, or as voluntary as it ever can be," Ruth chimes in, hands curled around her oversized cappuccino. Tariq spots the wink of a gold ring on her third finger and smiles into his americano.

"We were in the area. Doing the grand tour sort of thing, and I... I suppose I wanted to make everything was alright. A victory lap, I suppose," Harry says, inscrutable eyes looking at Tariq and Dimitri.

"As long as we're done, that's fine," Dimitri says. "I can't... this is my life now. Unglamorous or boring as it may be." His hand squeezes Tariq's across the table.

"Hell of a view, though," Ruth says, a twinkle in her eye, and then Harry is talking about visiting a woman called Zoe in Peru, and about touring the Mediterranean, and Tariq spends the whole day wondering about how light Harry seems, how brisk and free his soul seems now.

 

* * *

 

It's not all smooth sailing, however. They both have bad dreams, and even though the visit with Harry and Ruth is pleasant enough, it stirs loose some unpleasant memories. Of death, of defeat, of nightmares long since vanquished.

But on those mornings, Tariq tucks himself into Dimitri, and Dimitri tucks himself in Tariq, and they sleep a little more. Sunlight spills out into their bedroom, and Tariq knows that soon enough that Geraldo, the little cat that's adopted them, will sit on the bed, looking for food, and then it's breakfast and kisses and endless sweetness and heading down to the beach, and Tariq walking in hand-in-hand with Dimitri down to the shoreline, to find the place where sky meets sea, and stretches off into the horizon.


End file.
